Skinny Jeans vs. Fat Jeans

Yvette Marriott had a decision to make: was she going to wear her skinny jeans or her fat jeans to the company barbecue​? Whatever she chose, it would say a lot about her.

Wearing her skinny jeans would be akin to saying, “Hey everybody, look at me! Don’t I look super fine in these form fitting jeans of mine? I’ve earned this size eight you know; what with all the starving and cleansing and denying myself that I did. I am a testament to the beauty of willpower. Can I get an ‘Amen!’?”

But what would those skinny jeans say to the ‘Life’s Too Short To Pass Up Honey Garlic Chicken Wings‘ crowd? Would it be a slap in the face to them? Yvette really couldn’t argue about the shortness of life. Anyone at the barbecue could be hit by bus on their way home tonight. Would you pass up honey garlic chicken wings if you knew you were going to die tonight? Of course not. Even if Yvette were to live another forty years, she couldn’t be certain that honey garlic chicken wings would be served in Heaven, so maybe she and everyone else at the barbecue should enjoy as much of them now as possible.

Too many honey garlic chicken wings would make her jeans feel too tight after awhile, though. Who wants to go through an entire afternoon feeling as though they could explode at any moment? Maybe her fat jeans were the way to go.

Yvette’s fat jeans would give her enough wiggle room to not only eat honey garlic chicken wings, but ribs, potato salad, corn on the cob, and apple pie as well. God, how Yvette loved food! But, if she did eat all that food then people might look at her and think, “Well, that explains the need for fat jeans.”

Skinny jeans or fat jeans? Self-control or a heaping plate of yumminess? A night of regret for over-indulging or a night of regret for not allowing herself the one thing in life she loved?

It was a tough call, too tough really. That’s why she grabbed a skirt with an elasticized waist from her closet along with a baggy top. That outfit said something else entirely: I dress just as dowdy on the weekends as I do at work!

Yvette didn’t care. She was now free to eat as much as she wanted without anyone noticing anything different about her.

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